Make Me Sing
by PouringRain-BlazingStorm
Summary: "Would you like them here or there?" "Yes! I would like them here or there. I would like them everywhere!" Get ready for the dirty version of Dr Seuss where it's not green eggs or ham but yummy nations. Update: Couch - Netherlands
1. In A Closet: Denmark

Hello! This is for a smut challenge on another site.

I have to admit that I'm doing this for my own guilty pleasure but I'm only human after all.

Oh, Denmark! I want to run my hands through your hair. Bet he could last a while, non?

Hope you like it!

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A skeleton is not the only thing you can find...

**In A Closet**

It was a weird ritual but whenever you visited the Nordics you played hide and seek.

It was childish but you were certain that they played it to make up for the childhood they never had.

"Hey! Norway you're it!"

"This isn't tag fool."

As Denmark made sure Norway's eyes were covered Sweden was pulling a flustered Finland behind him and into the hall.

Iceland snuck into the dark basement and closed the door lightly, though Norway would never have been able to hear anything over the Dane's loud voice.

It took Norway dealing a harsh blow to Denmark's stomach to get him to leave and hide.

You left the kitchen once Denmark's heavy steps quietened.

Pushing the swinging door open you slipped into the dim hallway and up the old wooden stairs. Peering left and right you decided to head for the ash door that you knew held extra coats.

Opening it you stretched your head in, squinting to see if anyone already laid claim to the spot.

Satisfied from the lack of protest you slide yourself into the spacious closet and closed the door.

Sighing you settled yourself against the wall and waited.

A hand brushed your leg, so in a moment of panic you screamed.

The scream was cut short by a large hand. Fighting against the unknown man you grabbed his arm and tore you nails against it.

"_Stop!" _A voice that held a very distinct Danish accent hissed.

"_It's only me [Name]!"_

Pulling his hand away from your mouth you scoffed in anger.

Only he would do that.

"Why are you here? This is my spot!"

"Now, now, kæreste, I was here first. We can share you know?"

You didn't like the way he purred in your ear or wrapped his muscular arm around your waist.

"I'd rather not."

"Don't be like that."

"I'll be like I want to be like."

"Norge will hear us."

"Good, then I can get away from you quicker."

His hand traveled down to cup your bottom and then back up to grip your waist once more.

Stepping away you were pulled back into the man.

Your back hit his firm chest with such force it knocked the wind out of you.

"I have an idea…"

You gulped, blushing from his wandering hands on your body.

"Y-you d-do?"

"Mhhm, I do. Do you want to hear it?"

"Uhhhh-"

You were paralyzed from shock, no man had even touched you like this.

'It could be worse,' you thought but then Denmark leaned down and blew into your ear.

His warm breath tickled.

You moaned softly when his warm tongue darted out and licked your ear. He began to nibble on your earlobe which sent you over the edge.

"See, I knew you would like my plan."

"D-Denmark!"

"Shh"

His hand reached under your t-shirt, raising it up and over your head. He pulled your hair out of his way and attached his lips to your neck.

They bit and sucked, leaving marks that would last for a while. His hands went down and grasped your breasts. You gasped at the feeling, arching in to him only to urge on his touches.

He began to tire from the fabric covering the mounds and tore your bra right off your chest.

The cool air surprised you and you gasped as your nipples hardened. Denmark cupped them while attaching his lips to yours.

He began to pinch and knead until you were sore.

Reaching a hand up you grabbed Denmark's spiky blond hair and pulled his head closer to delve you tongue deeper into his mouth. It was Denmark's turn to moan.

You began reach lower and lower on him until you reached his zipper. You rubbed your hand over him, feeling him harden under your touch.

He groaned and flipped his head back, biting his lip.

His left hand left your breast and ghosted over your stomach and to the band on your pants. As he slipped his hand in you were glad that you had worn sweats.

He began to rub, dipping in teasingly only to smirk as you moaned loudly.

He entered a finger, then two. He pumped into you feeling no need to be gentle.

He laughed at how wet you were.

Wrapping both hands into his hair you timed your thrusts to match his. His lips found yours again as he pumped faster and faster.

You decided to give him a go to and unzipped his pants, pulling out his member.

You rubbed your hand up and down him, enjoying the throbbing you felt from him.

You started to rub faster and faster, it was his turn to thrust with you.

His fingers hit a soft spot in you which caused white to enter your vision. In response you gripped tighter and rubbed more fully.

He hit the spot two more times before you exploded with him.

You let out the loudest moan of the afternoon as Denmark gripped your hips and pulled you more into him moaning as well.

Before you could continue a monotone voice broke through the door.

"Found them."

Denmark and you, from then on, had to be in separate hiding spots from each other when playing.

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I hope you enjoyed that!

Let me know what you think, please.


	2. On A Beach: England

Second one! Good God. I would pay to see England shirtless! He is just *drool*. But anyways. I hope you like it!

ps I always forget to do this but: I don't own Hetalia...I think I'll go mope now.

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It was slightly funny. No, no that was cruel. You should not use other's fears to fuel your amusement…But you couldn't help it. It was so funny, no, hilarious!

The great former British Empire, ex-pirate, afraid of water? No! He couldn't swim!

"Hahahahaha~!"

"Well," he harrumphed, "I am just _so pleased so pleased_ that this amuses you so!" He crossed his arms and walked back towards the car waiting just a little ways off.

"W-wait!" You yelled, frantically trying to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

"Come back England! I didn't mean it!"

He came to a stop as you tugged on his sleeve, his large eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"Just why the bloody hell are we here?"

His green eyes glared down into your [e/c] ones, lips pulled into his famous frown he only used on America but seemed to adopt for you also.

"Well," you paused, playing with his t-shirt, "I thought we could get over you fear-"

"It's not a bloody fear!"

"And have some fun! Today is the day that I teach you how to swim" At this you gave your best smile, hoping to persuade the man. He blushed in response which signalled a small victory.

England looked at the lone beach, vacant of any occupants but the two of you. His emerald eyes then travelled to the softly roaring waves that danced with the shoreline. The sun was hidden by clouds, playing peek-a-boo with the land. He stared out into the green-blue water, eyes focussing back to a time when he was feared and powerful; a time when the mere mention of his name sent grown men running into the hills; a time when…when you didn't exist.

He looked to your defeated face. He knew that with the way you were biting your lip that you were trying to get him to agree to your plan. He sighed.

"Okay."

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me you bloody twit? I said okay!"

Your eyes lit up with excitement, smile taking over your lips.

"Come on then!" You laughed and pulled him down the trail and onto the sand. Kicking off your shoes you began to pull on England's shirt to get it off him. He pushed your hands away with a scowl and light rosy cheeks. He turned to face away from you and pulled the red shirt over his head.

You watched as his back rippled with muscles he gained over the centuries. Light silver scars dusted his back and sides signifying the hardships he had faced. You couldn't help but drool.

He turned back to face you, scowl present still and amplified tenfold. He did not look pleased.

"So how are we going to do this?"

"…"

"[Name]! Are you listening to me? Bloody hell, don't just space off when I am so kindly giving you my time."

"…I want more than you time."

"What?"

"Nothing! Anyways what were you saying?" You honestly didn't hear him. Once he turned around it had seemed like time had stopped. For such a prude in public he sure had a body.

"I said how are we going to do this?"

"Um…Just walk in?"

He just blankly stared at you.

"Okay, okay! Here," you grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers, "we'll take it step by step. Just stay with me."

England was _so _happy it was just the two of you. He wouldn't know what to do if that damned frog or stupid American were here. Surely they would get a kick out of it.

You stopped when you reached the shoreline. The water lapped at your toes chilling them slightly. You had stopped to make sure England was okay and from the look on his face it appeared he needed some encouraging. You squeezed his hand and smiled, taking a small step forward. England followed while sucking in a deep breath. There had been so many times he had almost died because of this substance and even now he thought it was mocking him with the way it held onto his ankles and calves as he walked deeper and deeper.

Finally you stopped when the water was just above his hips and on your waist. He shivered from the cold. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders, burying your face into his chest. His hands found themselves under the water resting on your hips.

"This is it?" He actually wondered that after all the whining and prodding that this was as far as you would take him. Not that he would admit to ever being slightly excited, oh no.

"No," you hummed, warm air making his chest tingle, "we are just getting use to the water."

England sighed and stood there, craning his neck to look at the sky.

"It's cold."

"Complaining is un-gentlemen like England."

"Teasing is most un-lady like [Name]."

You had begun to run your hands up and down torso, stopping to massage his shoulders and knead his hips.

You smirked as he groaned softly after a rather deep knead in the hips. You could feel him harden against you even though the water was cold. You, in turn, groaned as he pressed himself against our lower body. The water rushed around and between the two of you, enhancing the feeling.

Your hands found themselves wrapped into his messy hair, pulling through any knots, twirling strands around your fingers. England began to grind his hips into yours, member brushing against your already throbbing core. His lips travelled to meet yours and locked on. He bit your bottom lip, nibbling and sucking on the salty flesh thanks to the sea. You opened your mouth just enough to let him enter.

Your tongues danced together for dominance but finally his won. He explored every part he could reach, sometimes stopping his exploration to sensually rub his tongue against yours.

You moaned as one of his hands reached into your shorts and squeezed your bottom while his other hand travelled up and pulled your shirt and bathing suit top out of the way. It wasn't fair that you were the only one mewing like an animal so you slipped your hands down the front of his trunks and grasped it.

He gasped into your mouth as he hardened even further. You began to run your hand up and down him, enjoying the sensation that it brought to your core. He bucked his hips into your hand, trucks tightening around him. You were about to pull them down as he continued to squeeze your breasts when a loud laugh echoed across the water and into your ears.

Breaking apart you looked towards where the sound travelled from. The laugh sounded again and this time you recognized the voice.

"_Ohonhonhonhonhonhon!_"

You gasped in shock and pulled your shirt down and England fixed his bathing suit.

"What do we 'ave 'ere?" The blonde asked with a lecherous smirk toy his face.

"What are you doing here you bloody git?" England began to stomp his way to the shore where France was standing.

France began to raise his hand, "I can here to merely take in the sights!" and produced a camera.

You paled knowing what was on it already. England seemed to know as well because he began to grow red with either anger or embarrassment, maybe both.

"Come back here you frog!" England ran out of the water and chased after France who just laughed and skipped to his car, quite a ways ahead of England who was tripping in the sand.

"Oh. My. God. I'm going to be on a porn site." As the truth that you had been caught exposing yourself at the beach began to sink in you couldn't help but pout.

You never did get to teach England how to swim.

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Let me know what you thought! Thank you for reading!


	3. In A Tent: America

God I love camping... but it would be a plus if America could be there! Oh. My. God. I'm reading a fanfict (though I should be sleeping cause I have classes tomorrow) about a Vampire!Arthur x Matthew and my nose is about to burst with blood. It's so sinful but I love it!

Disclaimer: I wish on a millions of stars to own Hetalia...but I don't. I wish even more that they were real and I could (rape) hang with them.

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You watched the rain splash onto the ground only to bounce up and fall down again. The once dry ground had turned to mud mixed with small stones. Vegetation seemed to become more vibrant in colour, absorbing the life giving water. Grey clouds filled the sky embracing the sun and hiding it from your view.

It was supposed to be sunny. Clearly the weather girl was full of shit and in your opinion, should be fired.

The yellow and green tent withered from the rain. The pattering of the drops hitting the canvas you rushed to put over it was the only sound. The only comfort you found as you walked the rain fall through the tent door was the soft feather comforter you were resting on.

Oh…and I guess America was there too…

"I'm hungry!"

You ignored him.

"…I'm hungry!"

You continued to ignore him.

"[Name]! I said I was hungry!"

You sighed in defeat. There was no ignoring the boy. If you didn't know any better you would have thought that he had the attitude of some spoilt only child, waited hand and foot upon…but no he had a brother who you gave blessings to for sticking with America for so long and not committing murder.

"Yes, America. I heard you the first whine. There is nothing I can do until the rain lets up. Even if I went to the truck the food is in the back."

He gave a light whine, almost sounding like a kicked puppy.

"But, but -"

"Alfred."

He knew when the line was about to be crossed and when you said his given name the line was close to being crossed. He pouted and rolled over, glasses being pushed off of his nose. His entire being dispelled an aura of sadness.

You frowned. He had got you again. The boy was too cute to be true. Crawling over the comforter you huddled next to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist only to reposition them when he turned to face you. His blue eyes connected with yours and you were lost in in them.

"I love camping, even when it rains."

"I love camping with you."

You smiled in satisfaction. His goofy smile spread across his face throwing you into a fit of laughter along with his hands brushing your sides.

"Stop!"

You giggled, tears forming in your eyes. You would rue the day you had let the nation stumble (literally) upon the fact that you were ticklish on your sides. It was a good thing; you thought to yourself, that he didn't know that you were also ticklish on your inner thighs. That could end in disaster…or pleasure, either or.

"No! I claim you as American territory!"

This lasted for a few more minutes until you came to the point where you were going to pee your pants. You pushed him off, breathing in much needed air. America propped himself on his elbow staring down at your beat red face. He laughed that annoying laugh that sent England off on a rampage. It was a good thing he wasn't here. Your ear would have been bitten off if he ever found out that you were camping alone with a boy and with America none the less. He'd probably lock you in your room for a week and invade America out of anger. But then he would have to come back and save you because France would have snuck in and would be trying to rape you…

Your thoughts were broken as America leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Closing your eyes you reached up and pulled his head closer to your deepening the kiss. He pulled away with half lidded eyes. They glowed with emotion so seriously that it shocked you. America leaned in again and pecked your swelling lips, taking the chance to nibble when he could. You wrapped both arms around his shoulders as he climbed on top of you, careful to not put all his weight on you. He traced your jaw line with a softness that was surprising. He continued down your neck and to your collar bone where he nestled and gave special attention to.

You ran your hands down to the hem of his shirt and tugged it up successfully pulling it over his head. You pushed his chest until he was lying on his back. You straddled his waist and stared into his eyes. He smirked and you blushed but no words were exchanged. You fell forward and lightly kissed his lips. You held on to his arms as you bend and began to trail down his neck leaving red marks on his lightly tanned skin. You reached his chest and licked and sucked on the skin turned on by the way he was moaning. The great world power was helpless under your touch.

You went lower with your lips, running your hands up and hand is toned sides. You kissed his abs and blow on his belly button only for him to groan and grip the sheets. Your breasts were at level with this lower body and as they rubbed him he hardened. You could feel it form through your blouse; it felt like it was already against your bare skin. You placed your lips on the waistline of his jeans. You traced his 'v' with your fingers causing him to shift underneath you. His pants were beginning to become uncomfortable and you could tell. You tugged at his zipper and peered up, already knowing but still looking for a sign of approval. America nodded his head with vigour. Smirking you pulled the twisted metal down until it reached the end. You shimmied the jeans a little bit lower on his hips and pulled his superman boxers (you couldn't help but giggle) with them. You grasped him firmly and took a tentative lick. America gasped and that was all you needed to delve deeper.

When you got home you had no luck in trying to convince England that the red marks that littered your body, neck included, were from poison ivy from your solo trip into the woods to 'find' yourself. He left at once after he barricaded you into your room to beat America. He had only just touched down Reagan airport when he had to hop back onto a flight straight back to London to rescue from a frog that was ripping away at the door to get to you.

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Let me know what you thought! Hope you liked it!


	4. In A Bedroom: North Italy & South Italy

I'll just flat out and say that these two are on every sexual predators list *cough*we'rewatchingyoufrance*cough*.

They are just so, so cute! BUT they are also Italian so they have that hidden side to them too~!

Hope you like!

Thank you for favouriting and alerting! I'm so surprised by the amount of views and hits this has received!

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The room was dark but from under the curtains orange glowed from the pseudo lights that engulfed the city. The light did nothing to ward off the dark. It was like a basement, like the one in a movie. (Someone goes in and the darkness swallows them. They usually do not make an appearance in any other scene of the movie.) It was alive, always moving like water. You felt the tendrils creep and caress you, shutting down your barriers, coercing you to let yourself be taken over. It warped around you tighter than the blanket you had pulled in close to your body. It drew nearer and nearer until it was imbedding itself in your skin. You shot your eyes open and whipped the blankets off your body. You made a running start to the door, knocking into suitcases and end tables until you slammed into the wood. Throwing it open you cared little for the sound that vibrated off the walls. You sprinted to the left, down the hall and into the room on the right. You through that door opened and panted from the loss of breathe.

A lamp switched on.

"[Name]…" Italy moaned out, wiping his eyes to try and fight sleep. His usually closed eyes narrowed into the shadowed room squinting for a better sight of you.

Romano awoke with a 'damn it!' tossed the covers off him and sat up. His frown was back onto his face as he glared at you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!"

You cringed at the tone of his voice. You pulled the tank top lower then higher as it was bordering on flashing the brothers.

"Fratello! Don't be so mean to [Name]! But…um, [Name] what is wrong?"

At his brother's question Romano took a good look at you. Your hair was unusually messy, ends sticking vertically in the air; bags lined your eyes; posture was slouched and closed in on itself. To say the least, you looked like a mess.

"Um, well," you paused and bit your lips, "I was wondering if I could….."

They both craned their necks to hear the end of your sentence.

"Veh~ what did you say? I didn't get the end of that?"

Romano raised an eyebrow, hazel eye flashing in concentration.

"I was wondering if I could sleep with you two tonight?"

They blinked in surprise as you slightly edged away from a particularly dark shadow. They looked at each other and blushed.

"I'm sort of, kinda afraid of the dark…" They nodded in understanding. Their previous misconception of your statement disappearing.

Italy pulled the covers back and patted the middle of the bed, right between the brothers. You hopped over and crawled over to situate yourself between them. Laying down you gave a low thank you under your breath. Romano rolled his eyes and turned over. Italy smiled and flipped the switch of the lamp. The room was shrouded in darkness once more.

You were lucky, though some would pout, that they were clothed. They both had a bad habit of sleeping naked. All three of you shared in common the fact that you were still virgins. Not that you were upset, you didn't want to be easy like your friends back home but with the way they held their boyfriends and their love life over your head you couldn't help but become…frustrated. When they talked, freely and openly, about their sex lives you began to get a strange yet quite pleasing feeling between your legs. From then on you figured while they were having sex, you could wait and explore yourself. Let's just say that physically, while no man had ever touched you, you were not a virgin…The only people who knew were Belgium and Hungary. You blushed when they gave you those dirty smiles.

Thinking about your friends and their sweat inducing actions brought back the feeling to which you shifted nervously in the bed. You couldn't do anything about it with the two Italians next to you. You didn't even know if they were asleep or not. No, this could wait for another time.

To make it even worse Italy rolled over and pulled you into a hug. To not be left behind Romano rolled over and pulled you closer to him also. This only made the feeling swell. Your thoughts drifted into a gutter that would made France proud. You mentally shook your head to ease the thoughts of raping the poor, defenceless brothers next to you. It was a temping idea though.

You resided to just brush your fingers into their hair. Their soft tresses flowed through your fingers. They hummed in union at the nice feeling. They suddenly stiffened.

"Veh!'

"Chigi!"

They yelped as you brushed their curls once more but did nothing to stop you. By now your face had split into a most evil grin; one that would send Hungary to grab her camera and box of tissues. You left behind any thoughts of sparing the two for only to ease your discomfort. Your mind filled with thoughts, thoughts that were probably causing your grandmother to roll in her grave.

You brushed their curls again, breathing in the mews they made.

You tugged their curls lightly.

You took your fingers and placed them at the root of the curl. You slow and tantalizingly pulled them down the length of their curls giving firm pressure as you did.

They shifted against you so that their torsos were fully perpendicular to your sides.

You gasped and gave a moan at their hardness brushing against you. You left their curls alone and reached your hands down to their hips. You simultaneously pushed pass their boxers and feathered your fingers against their tips. They shuddered and began to pant. You shifted once more so you could now run your hands down their shaft and the way to the base. They moan loudly as they twitched. You slowly began to pump making sure to squeeze at the top.

Their hands began to roam your body. Each took turn on where they explored. Italy went to your upper half and Romano took to your lower.

Italy began to thumb over your nipples drawing circles alternating between large and small. He licked your neck but whimpered when you quickened the motion on him. He buried his face into your jawline and gave soft kisses until he hit your lips. Once he did you spent no time forcing your tongue into his mouth. You proceeded to explore his mouth acting like the topper.

Romano felt left out but he quickly hopped over your legs and pulled your shorts down. He ripped your underwear off and spread your legs. You gasped at the cool air hitting you. Italy took this moment to lean over you and deepen the kiss while you pumped him. Romano laid down so his feet dangled off the end of the bed. With his hands he massaged the inner part of your thigh all the while blowing on your core. The feeling was certain to intensify but you were ready to explode. After hearing a covered moan that vibrated in your throat he dipped down and took a tentative lick. You shuddered. Both Romano and Italy gave a deep chuckle which only made you wetter.

Surely you died that night from your fear of the dark for their grandfather Rome wasn't lying when he said Italian were the lovers in heaven.

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Thank you, again, for reading!


	5. On A Bunk Bed: Canada

I couldn't help but feel like I was committing incest as I wrote this...being Canadian and all...oh well.

If given the chance I jump him, Canada needs more love. Though I'm sure that under that invisible skin he has raw Frenchness that's waiting to explodes. He wouldn't stand a chance and clearly this shows that I have a bias as this one is the longest out of all of them so far.

Hope you like!

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The day had started with a long plane ride and then food that should be treated as a biohazard offered by England. After he gave you those big green tsundere eyes you couldn't help but give in even though France, America and even Canada objected to the consumption.

The trip to the E.R only added to exhaustion of the three youngest of the group. Canada, America and you, after helping you up the stairs, turned in for the night. You could fall asleep. Whether the stomach aches or the 'bloody frog!'s coming from downstairs you didn't know.

The official first day of your trip to England's house was underway as soon as the sun rose above the horizon. Turns out that, opposite of popular belief, America was an early riser (probably due to the fact that he liked to get his daily McMuffins in) but Canada on the other hand was the one to sleep in as long as possible.

Canada liked to wake up only if he had too. It was in the early mornings that he praised God for making him invisible so that neither his phone ringing nor countries bursting through his door for business disturbed him. On the other hand, Canada had a mobile alarm clock that would bite his toes when he was hungry and Canada was still under the covers.

So, as the rooster crowed (figuratively speaking of course) America had slammed open the guest room door and pounced on the bed, leaving a nice big crack in the wall for England to fix. He dragged a very sleepy Canada with him and managed to wake not only you but England and France as well with his loud and very obnoxious voice.

You rolled over to face the ceiling, eyes wide open. You had gotten maybe three to four hours of sleep tops and the American was shouting at the top of his lungs at…five in the morning. As you blinked you saw a spatter of blood streak across the ceiling. Would the world really be that much worse without the United States of America? You really wanted to test out the theory.

Canada was ignored by his brother so he flopped down on the bed next to you and practically became one with the covers.

Kicking America out of the room was harder than you thought. When you started to pull your shirt over your head, expecting him to leave, you were quite shocked to just see him sitting on the end of the bed, eye staring attentively at you.

"Do you mind?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Not at all." His grin never weakened.

Walking over you pulled on his ear and dragged him to the door not taking to mind that you were literally dragging him across the floor. Once most of his body was passed the doorway you grabbed the door and whipped it shut paying no heed to the muffled sound of flesh hitting wood. That would leave a mark…hopefully.

Turning around you pulled the baggy shirt off of your body and tossed it to the floor not caring of England scolded you later or not. The cold air made you squeal a bit as your chest took a full frontal assault. The sound drew Canada out of his clothe cave. Purple eyes followed your every movement as you put on a bra and pulled yourself into a comfortable shirt.

You didn't notice his eyes wandering your body and even if you did you wouldn't care. You pulled down your green and blue polka dotted pyjama pants and slipped out of your underwear. You grabbed some out of your underwear bag and headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After making sure that there were no bumps of pure evil on your face that needed to be taken out you stepped back into the bedroom and leaned against the bed.

"Are you going to get up or am I going to have to get America?"

Canada groaned from under the covers but none the less sat up. His blond hair was slightly messy and his curl was even more prominent than usual. He rubbed his eyes then leaned back on his hands giving you the most irresistible look ever. It was his pouty face. Yes, Canada had a pouty face and he also had a high mode, hockey mode, lumberjack mode, wilderness mode and Manada mode to just name a few, each holding different traits that would show as soon as he clicked into the mode. He also apparently had a really bad temper. You had never seen it but according to some nations it was terrifying, to you, you thought an angry Canada was the hottest thing ever.

"I need help waking up." How could he say that with a straight face?

"…You're a closet pervert aren't you?"

"I'm part French."

"Point taken."

With the short conversation done you climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your lips to his. Instantly his began to move with yours in a heated dance. He ran his hands down your sides and cupped your bottom as you tangled your hands into his silken French hair. You leaned into him giving him room to caress his hands up and down your thighs. You moaned into his lips as he started shifting your underwear down. They were halfway down your thighs when the forgotten southern nation started banging on the door.

"[Name]! What's taking so long? Hurry up, I'm hungry~!" America whined the last part clearing upset that he wasn't stuffing his face right at that moment.

You pulled away from Canada, almost ripped your jeans as you pulled them up your legs, stalked over to the door and banged the door open. You smirked when you saw America slightly jump in shock. Pushing passed the tall nation you stomped down the hall giving off an aura that would send Godzilla running for its mother. Canada only narrowed his eyes at his _slightly_ (he'd like to emphasis slightly) older brother. He always had to be the star…

All through the day Canada and you shared secret glances with each other. You held hands when no one was looking, brushed against each other by accident and even made out in the first floor bathroom when England was dealing with America and the new hole in his window. The only one the two of you were really watching out for was France. He could sniff this kind of stuff from across the globe so it was quite difficult to hide your relationship when you were in the same house as he was.

Personally, you thought he knew. He gave those knowing smirks and winks whenever you and Canada were within a foot of each other and made strange comments like,

"The adrenaline of being caught always adds some épices to the bedroom," and then he would _honhonhonhonhonhon~ _for a few minutes.

…Like that wasn't a dead giveaway.

To yours and Canada's excitement the sun began to set over the horizon. That meant that England would be sending the three of you off to bed soon.

When England murmured the worlds that he wanted,

"You bloody gits out of my living room and in your cages,"

Canada and you ran up the stairs and into your rooms to get ready. You stripped out of your clothes and brushed your teeth but didn't put any cream on your face knowing that it would not be the best thing to consume.

You waited until Canada texted you that his brother was asleep and that England and France were watching TV to make your move.

Slipping into the hall you mission impossibled your way into the boy's room and slowly reclosed the door. You could hear the snored coming from America's mouth and could see Canada's shadow coming from the top bunk. Yes, they had bunk beds. England was probably in denial.

Trying to stifle your giggles you stepped around the boxers and electronics that littered the floor and placed your left foot firmly on the ladder bar. America mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over. You waited a few minutes and then climbed up to the top. There you latched onto Canada and began to ravish him, pulling off his shirt and tugging his pants down. He, in turn, grabbed the t-shirt, which was really his, and threw it onto the floor. Next he lifted you up and pulled your shorts and underwear down in one swoop. Wasting no time you pushed him onto his back and slide him into you. Rocking your hips you tried very hard to muffle your moans from the pleasure. Canada took a firm grasp of your hips and began to pull you down on him faster and harder. Getting the hint you quickened the pace even more causing the top bunk's frame to shake. You had to balance yourself out my placing your hands on Canada's chest but that only lead to you making welts from curling your fingers in ecstasy. After the first release he flipped positions which only added to the noise. By now you were shocked that America had not awoken up from all the moans and soft screams. Canada hit your spot consecutively and you were both pushed over the edge. A couple more creatively positioned rounds on the quivering, wooden bunk bed and you called it a night.

You were both beat from the activities of the night before but America caught both of you off guard when he started describing his triple x dreams at the breakfast table. They sounded suspiciously like what you and Canada did. Once France heard about them he laughed out loud and clapped his hand on Canada's back and announced how proud he was. America and England just stared in confusion while you hid your tomato red face.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	6. An Abandoned Building: Russia

Become one with Mother Russia? Yes/No/Maybe

Tough question...could you repeat it please?

France is next and then maybe...another nation?

Hope you like it!

* * *

You were panting. Not the 'I'm way out of shape' panting but the 'holy shit, what the hell is happening' kind of panting. Adrenaline ran through your veins. Your peripheral vision blurred to tunnel vision. Racing through the silent streets you blanched as you saw the knife come twirling towards you. You dove out of the way landing on your shoulder and rolled into a crouched position. You listened to the close breathes of you assailant. They were angry, coming out sharp and quick. As they drifted away you began to crawl into the alley that was adjacent to the bin you were hiding behind. The alley held scattered cans, bags and debris making it the opportune path for you to take.

There were five of them that were circling you. All working for him. One had her own agenda, enraged at the leader's motives she went after you but your capture was still the one thing he wanted and she was playing right into his hands.

You ducked into a large gray building. It was pure cement, glass windows shattered and cracked into ominous patterns. Shards lay on the ground and softly crunched as you stepped through the loading dock and into the holding area. You knew that they weren't far behind. They were breed to track, better than any German dog that ever existed. They always found their target.

Cobb webs inhabited the corners and streamed down the walls onto old boxes. A rat or two ran under your feet. You shivered knowing that this dirty feeling would never leave your skin no matter how hard you scrubbed. The dust clung to your matted hair. It floated through the air as you shifted through the darkness looking for a more enclosed spot to take cover. You made as little contact with objects as possible because even one hand print could give you away. You Houdini-ed your way through an opening to a side room. It was medium sided, like a bedroom but was off the beaten track enough that it would take a person looking very hard to find it. A tiny window shed light into the room. There was nothing to conceal yourself with so you just settled into the corner. You waited, preventing yourself from falling asleep as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Soft footsteps echoed across the holding bed. Calculating eyes covered every detail. He spotted a disturbance in the dust. He could feel the shifting of air. He could hear a heartbeat. He walked father into the building smirk growing into a childish grin.

You awoke to the sound of footsteps. They were coming closer and closer. There was no room to escape; the window was too high and small to fit your body. You held your breath, blood pulsating in your ears so hard you could barely make out the footsteps.

The door slowly creaked inward. But there was no movement for a minute, and then he walked in.

"Hello [Name]."

You shivered and pulled yourself into a ball.

"R-Russia." You whispered the name terrified by the aura he emitted. His grin widened as he walked forward in strong, powerful steps.

He reached down and tugged your arm away from your body and tossed you into the center of the room. You sprawled out onto the floor, wind knocked out of you by his harsh treatment. He kneeled before you and ran a large hand up and down the front of your body. You froze so scared as to what was happening. He had found you and now he would...

"You will become one with mother Russia, da?"

You shook partly in excitement and partly in the horror you would be feeling tomorrow.

He took is pipe and let the faucet slowly push your legs apart. Once fully opened he kneeled over your body fully and let his pipe tantalizingly brush against you.

You were caught and would now be taken by the dominating nation. It was time to become one.

* * *

Russia commends you for reading. Your conquering will be not as long or painful.

Thank you!


	7. In A Changing Room: France

I don't think the fear of getting caught would ever deter France from fulfilling his carnal desires...Damn he's smexy.

Hmm I wonder who I'm going to to do next...Maybe Germany or Prussia. So many choices, so hard to choose!

Hope you like it!

* * *

The air conditioning sent goosebumps crawling up your arms but it was the lesser of two evils compared to the humid heat that drifted through the city on this mid summer's day. The people walking by the store windows were dressed in barely anything to help combat the heat. Even in the cool little boutique the employees were dressed in short dresses or short shorts.

You shivered from the fan's cold expulsion but continued to sift through the racks. Unlike other females you opted for you jeans, t-shirt and hoodie...it was practical goddamnit! And anyone who sent weird stares could shove it, you just had higher moral standards than them. You wouldn't be caught dead running around in your undergarments in public.

In your arms hung a multitude of clothing, from t-shirts to blouses, skirts to dresses. You needed a going out outfit that Hungary approved of but also one that didn't scream hey you get off my street corner. It was pretty difficult considering that what she had in mind was completely outrageous...there would be no see through clothing for you thank you very much. So, after many horrid hours of travelling from store to store cruising for the right thing you were about ready to pull your teeth out. You had to call in a reinforcement, a French reinforcement.

"Oh La La~ Try this, ah, and this. This skirt you show off your legs, oh, and this shirt would show some of that delicious cleavage!"

As he spoke he tossed the articles over his shoulder on to the already large pile. You doubted that they would let you try this all on at once. He turned to regard your slouching form and nodded his head.

"Now, to try it all on. Then we just have to get shoes. Hm, and some accessories too!"

France pulled you forward and proceeded to charm the fitting room attendant. While she was distracted you stepped into the farthest stall from the open store and dropped the clothes on the bench they supplied. You picked up the shirt and skirt that France had told you matched and stripped. A few knocks on the door alerted you before Frances's voice drifted though the wood.

"Do you need some help, ma cheri?"

"No!" You yelled as you attempted to pull the navy blue skirt past your hips. You heard a little rip and laughed nervously. Tugging it down you quickly looked for something else to try on. Hopefully you wouldn't break the seams but why did they have to make everything so small? You moan as the buttons on the flowered shirt you pulled over your head nearly burst at your chest.

"I'm coming in!" Before you could scream no the door was opened and France had slipped in. He shut the door with a soft click before turning and taking in your appearance. Contrary to your racing mind he did not jump on you and take you there but instead made a long, sweeping look over your body and then proceeded to sieve through the mountain and pick out another matching attire. You slowly unhooked your arms from around your body. One arm came away from your bra covered breasts and the other away from your fish patterned panties. You blinked. This was not France...there was no way he would pass up a good grope or molest.

France nodded his head in approval and turned to face you again. He lowered the dress to the floor and motioned you to step into it as he held on. You hesitantly stepped forward and into the neck opening of the dress. Without so much as a word, France pulled the dress up past your hips, over your chest and looped your arms through the arm holes. He stepped back and urged you to look in the mirror. You turned and frowned. The dress fit you perfectly, like it was made for your body. It fit in all the right places, accentuating the goods and hiding the unfavoured parts. This must have been the first dress to ever do this, no kidding, as all the other you had ever tried on showed off the little bit of fat or the cut didn't go well.

"You look beautiful."

You peered at France through the mirror and blushed as he smiled at you.

"Thank you. I would have never have picked this on my own."

You turned and began to fidget not knowing what to do. France frowned and tucked some of his blonde curly hair behind a fair ear, deep sky blue eyes narrowing. He walked forward and grabbed your hips. You let out a startled gasp as he hooked his fingers under your panties and drew them down. He let them fall to the floor and looked at you again. This time he let a firm nod shake his wavy hair.

"Amour we will have to buy you a thong, unless you already own one, no?"

You shook your head in the negative while blushing. France let a little smirk rest on his face and he grabbed the hem of the dress and in one swift motion had it over your head and onto the crook of his arm.

"Shall we pay?" He gave you a taunting look promising something but what he said.

You stared at him and only when he raked your body with a certain look did you remember that you we missing a very important part of your clothing. After receiving a very shocked expression from you France opted to toss the dress to the forgotten pile of clothes and do something more productive.

"Here, let me help you out of that constricting piece of cloth, hm."

One of his hands snaked its way around to your back and unclasped your bra. Standing like a statue you let it fall to the ground to join the other discarded article. France then ran his hands up and down your sides before stopping to cups your full breasts. You let out a slight moan finally broken from your state of shock at the bold intentions of France.

He began to knead your breasts, rubbing your nipples until they stood erect. He leaned down and trained kisses over your cheeks and jaw line before placing his lips against your, inviting you to join the game. You gave into the temptation due to the annoying unquenchable feeling growing between your legs. You shifted your body to allow him better access to you while running your hands over his shoulders, down his torso, over the hard bump in his pants and back up to wrap your fingers into his silky hair. France let one hand trail down but still continued to grope your chest. He left his fingers brush against you, earning him another moan. After listening to you whimper he dipped his fingers and slowly began to rub and hook his fingers on your inside. No man had ever made you feel like this before. Your knees went weak so France leaned you against the wall which helped him reach deeper into you. You gave a long loud moan in pleasure before your shaking hands started to unbutton his dress shirt. You kissed and sucked on his exposed skin and nibbled on him before you finished his shirt and began to undo his pants excited about the every growing lump in his pants. It was his turn to let out a moan as you grabbed him but he returned the favour by hitting a spot in you that made your vision white.

The moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Excuse me but only person in the changing room at all times."

She was met with the deep moan of a man and a soft moan from a woman combined. Needless to say that after you were finished you received some lovely glares which accompanied dark blushes from the cashier and her fellow colleges.

* * *

Blah! This took me so long to write. It's hard to stay in the zone when your friend keeps on texting you about her relationship problems. X( What's a nice way to say deal with it? Any answers would be nice.


	8. In A Library: Prussia

So it's been forever but now that school is starting soon the knowledge that I won't be able to laze around is hitting me. I thought I might as well post as many as I can before I have to devote myself to studying.

This is mostly designated to Prussia but it features France and Spain also.

Hope you like it!

* * *

The distant sound of traffic drifted through the open window of the silent library. Students filled the chairs that were placed in front of every open surface area. It was exam week so all the students, from the keeners to the I'm-going-to-be-kicked-out-if-I-don't-pass ones, had their shoulders hunched and heads bowed over thick stakes of paper. The garbage cans were at their limit, ready to over flow if any more coffee cups were stuffed into them. Light snoring could be heard from corners of the old building as students who had pulled all nighters passed out from exhaustion. There was a slight scent of panic in the air as the clock rang the new hour in.

You trailed down the aisles searching for a specific book on metamorphic rock. Your geology exam was tomorrow and you wanted to know every little detail about the rocks that wasn't covered in your textbook. You stopped at in the geology section and grabbed the book that had the same code as the one written on the small piece of paper you held in your hand. You looked to the right and left of the book and picked up anything that was related to your topic. Anything would help.

Turning, you almost bumped into the albino man that was standing behind you. You gave him a low glare and stalked pass him. He stuck close to you as you weaved your way around the vast library looking for an empty spot to sit and read. Finally you chanced upon a tiny table rear the very back of the library. It was by the doors that lead to the stairs to the basement where all the old, valuable documents and books were held. The door was hardly used so the chance that you would be disturbed was slight.

The only distraction you had to worry about was the Prussian man that threw himself onto the cushioned chair opposite of you.

Hoping that he would take the hint of 'do not disturb' if you ignored him, you opened to the table of contents and contemplated where you should start to read. You decided on the beginning, just to make sure there was nothing you didn't know already. Better safe than sorry.

A loud cough made you look up at the man before you. You raised an eyebrow and he smirked in reply. He opened his mouth but you looked back to the page cutting him off. He frowned. He didn't like people ignoring him. He looked around the empty aisles that he could see while sitting. There was no one around but the two of you. He pouted. Here he was, wasting his awesome time just to be with you and what were you doing? Reading. And nothing good like Playboy or Sports Illustrated.

He stared back at you. Old jeans and a hoodie covered your figure from his sight. Your converse were on but loosely done up and your hair was pulled back by a headband. This was your study attire and there was no way that you would go anywhere but back to your apartment dressed like that.

"Gilbert, don't you have studying to do yourself? Isn't your engineering final in two days?"

You closed the book and stared at his lazy form. The feeling of his eyes on you was unnerving.

"Yeah, but I have all of tomorrow and the next morning to study."

You paused for a moment and stared into his beautiful red eyes.

"Who are we kidding? You're not going to study at all are you?"

"Mhm, no. I'm too awesome to study. My sheer genius will be enough."

He gave you a devious grin as you just stared at him blankly. No fair. Damn him for his intelligence.

"Where's Francis and Antonio? Maybe they want to do something with you?"

"They are both in an exam, but good try. What else do you have to offer? If you don't want me here you could just say so."

He raised an eyebrow at your blush. Did you really sound that bad?

"I just don't want you to be bored…"

Trailing off you looked down at your lap. You placed the heavy book on the table. You would feel too guilty if you just let him sit there waiting for you. You had been studying for a few days now. There was little to nothing that you didn't know about the topic of your exam. You stood and kicked your backpack out of your way. A quick few steps and you found yourself in front of your boyfriend. He looked up in confusion as you uncrossed his legs and sat on his lap. You leaned against his chest and nuzzled into his neck.

"What's this? Can't resist me can you?"

He pulled back your hair and placed a kiss on your forehead. You sighed but only shook your head in reply. He was always right…the bastard.

Tilting your head you lightly touched your lips to his. To your pleasure Gilbert leaned into the peck and devoured your lips in a strong kiss. You shifted so you could place your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his slivery hair. You pulled away for air but swiftly latched on to his jaw and then lower to his neck. You nipped and nibbled on his creamy flesh. Gilbert let out a lengthy moan. It was not very loud but you could hear the growing tension within him rise with every one of your touches. He pulled you closer to him and you raised your head to meet him lips to lips once more. The spots you paid special attention too began to become a splotchy red.

Gilbert brought his left arm up to cup your hidden right breast. He grasped it with no hesitation which sent you gasping. He groped you a few more times before deciding that the feel of skin to skin would be better. He pushed your hoodie off and unbuttoned your plaid shirt. He slipped he arm around your back and unclasped your bra then pushed it off of your breasts. He began to give his attention to your chest. You moaned deep in your throat and grabbed a fist full of his hair and slammed your lips back to his where you effortlessly began to assault him with your tongue. Once you had finished molesting his mouth he took the lead back and pushed himself into your mouth. He tantalizingly began to explore as his hands moved like they had a mind of their own. He broke off from your mouth and bent you back a bit and lowered himself onto your chest. A few licks and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

The fact that you were partially exposed had no consequences in your mind at the moment. As a reaction to Gilbert's wet muscle on your body you rocked your hips over him, brushing against his jean covered hips and all that is hidden in there. You held his head to your breast and rocked deeper and quicker.

A soft bell chime rang from the table. You ignored it and continued with your actions. It was silent for a moment but it soon rang once more. This time you picked it up. You had stopped rocking your hips but Gilbert continued. Without looking at the caller ID you picked it up.

"Hello?" You breathed out, all but biting your lip to keep the moan inside you.

Very distinct French and Spanish voices spoke from the other end, "You 'ave ze nicest breasts amore!"

"Si! Mi amigo was not lying when he told us how lovely they are!"

"Can I try zem s'il vous plait?"

"No fair! I want to too!"

You dropped the phone into your lap and began to wildly look around for the two. They waved from behind the forth bookshelf down.

Gilbert kept on going, as he paid no heed to your embarrassment. You pushed him away and leaped behind his chair to hurriedly fix your bra and top. Gilbert looked up and waved his best friends over with no shame at being caught. As you sat on the floor with a red face, your mind was blank. Your boyfriend's friends had just seen you naked…what were you thinking? You completely tuned out the conversation behind you.

"Fine. But I get to say who goes where!"

"Oui!"

Glibert reached around the chair and pulled you up. He stood and grabbed your books and bag. You looked everywhere but at the men. If you did gaze at them you would have seen three wide grins and three pairs of eyes filled to the brim with want.

"Come Liebling. We are going back to my place to finish what we've started."

"But -!"

A sweater covered arm draped itself over your shoulder. You stared with wide eyes into Francis' blue ones.

"Yes, we will all 'ave zuch fun, non?"

"What?"

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	9. On A Pillow

Took forever but I have updated!

My cousins and aunt came back from Turkey with awesome harem pants. I want them!

I really wanted to do Germany next but I think I might do a Ireland and then Scotland one first. Any suggestions and where they should be molested? Something cultural maybe? Let me know if you have any ideas!

Hope you like!

* * *

"Um, thank you?"

"Do you like them? Go try them on!"

Turkey ushered you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you allowing you to change into the new article of clothing he had bought for you.

Harem pants.

Yeah.

At first you had loved them. They were soft, flowing and just plan awesome but then he had to tell you what they were.

Harem pants.

It wouldn't have bothered you if not for the fact that you knew Turkey had…dabbled in the art of harems. The though made you scowl. Scowl like you had just smelt some of England's cooking. You didn't want to wear them. You were not going to be associated with an ancient whore house.

Still, you loved the masked man so you slide your jeans down and pulled the loose fabric over your legs. They fit well and though you hated to admit it, they suited you. The red brought out the gold shirt you had decided to wear that day and the whole attire brought out your natural beauty.

"Damn~! I look good!"

[Name] threw open the door and called to her boyfriend.

"In here! How do you look, let me see~!"

[Name] turned a few corners, following the sound of Turkey's voice. You entered the room at the back of the hall, away from the main living space. You stopped; your eyes wide as you took in the space around you.

The room was enclosed by three solid walls and one that was made up by glass. It over looked the courtyard, with a balcony attached. The roof couldn't be seen as cloth hung from the ceiling giving off the appearance of being a tent. Small tables, mid-calf high, were dotted around the floor. Pillows littered the floor. Some small, hand size, others the size of a modern couch. It was one of the large pillows, a turquoise green, which Turkey lounged on.

[Name] raised a maintained eyebrow. He had changed too. He now wore, instead of his cargo pants and jacket, his own harem pants and a small vest that left his chest bare, his mask was gone giving you the lovely view of his masculine face. It took you a few seconds to figure it out. With a gasp of shock you pointed an accusing finger at the man.

"I am not going to participate in this, this, this sick fantasy you have! I'm not one of your whores that will wait hand and foot upon you!

"I thought, when you first gave me these, that you were up to some disgusting plan but then I tried them on and I thought, hey, I look good in these, maybe they were just a nice gift. But no, I should have known better!"

"Come here [Name]."

Turkey let his voice drop into a husky drawl. His hand patted the spot in front of him as he gave off a 'come hither' aura to the room.

You shivered and as much as you were angry at the man, the pillow did look very inviting. Deciding to be stubborn you sat across from him with your arms and legs crossed. His lips formed a dangerous smile as his eyes darkened to a luscious colour. Sadik let a finger fall down your bare arm. You struggled to stay composed but he was affecting you and usually when he affected you like this clothes hit the floor.

"So, do you like the pants?"

"I *shiver* love them."

A blush skirted your cheeks. It was those eyes, those brown eyes, flecked with green. They promised things. Things that you knew would come true.

"I am so glad to hear that!"

He gave off a bright smile and rolled onto his back. You found yourself straddling the man not of your accord. Those years of taking over the world paid off for him as you unconsciously ran your hands over his bare chest. His muscles flexed under your touch, his grin growing in mirth.

"You're a demon."

You seethed out as he gave a light buck of his hips.

"Hmm, that wouldn't be the first time I've heard that. I was quite the terror back in the day."

"I'm sure you were."

His hips that were once only giving off random bucks began to thrust up into you. Through the pants he wore and the baggy ones that you donned you could feel the growing friction.

"I can't win can I?"

The game was lost. There was no way you could stay angry. This man had the power to make you crumble. Your female pride stung a bit but as his growing lump brushed against your wetness you pushed it to the side.

"I change my mind."

You stopped in the middle of a loud moan.

"What?"

"I don't like the pants. Take them off."

His mouth was set into a wicked grin and you mirrored it as the crimson pants hit the floor.

"Someone's excited, hahaha!"

His laugh echoed off the walls and mingled with the sound of the courtyard fountain.

"Shut up."

In a bout of sexual frustration you tugged his pants down so that they rested at his ankles.

"Now. We are going to be doing things my way."

Your face was set in dead seriousness. His eyebrows met his hairline.

"Oh," he said with a breathtaking smile that made you warm in your lower regions, "we'll see about that."

Your underwear and rest of the covering clothes hit the floor. His soon followed.

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	10. Halloween Special: Scotland

I have absolutely no idea how this came to be while I was in Statistics.

The style of writing is weird but I kinda like it. I just had to get Scotland out there.

I think I'm going to quickly go write another Halloween Special for another country, another one of the founders of Halloween.

Happy Halloween!

* * *

I watched him from across the room. My shirts gathered dust as they followed behind me. My mask sat perfectly in the contours of my face. The mask hid my plump lips that were wet in want. My shaded eyes drank him up leaving nothing for others.

He stood there. Across from me. By a pair of the balcony's French doors. His fiery hair blazed under the chandeliers' light. His face was covered like all the others in the room. He was dressed in black. Pure black. Blacker than the deepest part of the ocean. It looked fantastic. He looked fantastic, as he towered over the crowd of girls that cooed at him. They grabbed at him like the souls that grabbed at Charon as he rowed across the river Styx. They were lost souls much like their counter parts in Hades. Lost from his thought, his presence, and his attention. He was elsewhere.

The glow of his green eyes shimmered through the mesh of the mask. They darted around the ballroom searching. Searching. Searching for something he was patient to find. He had the night, it was his and soon what he was searching for would be too.

I stepped into the shadows of the corner I occupied as those eyes passed where I stood. His eyes went back to the center of the grandiose room. They watched the dancers that floated across the wood. They were all dressed in various shades of the rainbow. Their masked held unique expressions that were never mirrored. I knew mine was a light frown, a light pout. His was set in a vicious grin. Not much different than the one that usually graced his flesh lips. Another was a cheerful smile adorned below wheat hair. Another was a scowl hiding monstrous eyebrows. Another was lusty glance accompanied by equally lusty hands.

The masquerade never paused as the clock rang midnight. It's ring falling on no one but us.

His head swivelled to look around the gold room with a more predatory gaze in his eyes. This time, as his eyes glanced over, I stepped out of the darkness. I caught his eyes. Without holding the forest green eyes for a moment longer I turned and walked through the archway that lay to my left.

I watched the fog roll through the courtyard and into the maze at the end of the garden. Eerie lights glowed from within the fog. Their locations always changing. The moon stared down at us, a Cheshire grin in the sky. Stone laid under my feet. The marble banister was cold, colder than the ice that melted in the drinks of the guests. A low howl of the wind informed me of his arrived. A shiver went up my spine.

He hands were warm compared to the rock beneath my fingers. They brushed my arms lightly as he wrapped his arms around my smaller form. I was pulled into the black of his dress shirt. My midnight blue dress disappeared within him. The stiff mache of his face caressed my neck. His fingers wrapped themselves around mine drawing them up to press them against the grin of his mask. He led me backwards to where the lights could not touch. He let my hands go so that he could press me against the wall behind me.

I reached up with painted nails and unmasked the redhead. I let it fall to the ground uncaring if it cracked. He took one of his pale hands and flicked my mask off. He threw it behind us, I think it landed in the garden below but I couldn't care.

Out faces were exposed. Mine held no emotion, I held it within. It twirled and danced in an intimate fashion. It was waiting to be released. His playful eyes left me no doubts as to what was to happen next. His lips twitched into a sinister smirk that I knew held no evil. Just excitement. His handsome face I had longed for since that party began.

His eyes grew darker as he ran his hands down my shoulders, over my chest and to my hips. They paused for a moment so he could hear my gasp of delight. They continued to my mid-thigh where he began to pull the skirts of my dress up. They bunched at my hips exposing my stocking covered legs. He tied the blue fabric in a tight knot, letting it rest out of his way. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt. I pushed it over his shoulders and off his milky body. My hands stayed on his chest as he stroked the inside of my thighs. A rip tore into the night, my stockings split from my body. The tatters lay next to us the ground. I didn't care that I spent a fair sum on them. I undid his belt and unzipped his pants. My underwear soon joined my stockings. I trembled in anticipation as he tugged at the lace of my bodice. He was elated to see that nothing lay underneath.

He lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his slim waist. I moaned his name as he entered me. I felt no more cold, only unadulterated warmth washing my body. He whispered my name in my ears. A light frisky tone to his deep and heavily accented voice. One of his strong arms balanced us against the wall. I shifted to get more comfortable, he began to thrust into me as his lips attacked mine, my neck, my breasts, my ears. His hair skimmed my skin as he rocked us. It was soft and I couldn't help but grab a fist full and pull him to my lips once more. Our hips moved in unison. We knew each other's body. Knew how to make it tingle in pleasure or quake in want or how to lay in peace next to the other. Our soft moans became loud cries but the orchestra alerted no one of our actions. We were forgotten in the high of the party. Our pace was heightened. We continued into the night. Alone with each other. With our bodies and mind. With our thoughts, words and dreams. Able to celebrate the Hallows Eve together in bliss.

* * *

Hope you liked it!


	11. Halloween Special: Ireland

This would have been up sooner but it's a tradition in my family to go down to my uncle's house, have dinner, then loaf as the kids trick or treat.

Last Halloween Special...I feel like making other specials...hmm *scribbles on idea list*

So, here is Ireland, or what I somewhat perceive him to be like. OMG! Have you seen the Halloween Event Blog. Damn that's one sexy Holmes aka England. Any France, well, I'll be your Wendy any day. We can stay young forever! Romania...I'd like to tap that. Can't wait for the next update.

Anyways, that's my rant for the night.

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The streets were empty, the pumpkins dark. It was nine at night on Halloween and you were waiting at home for your boyfriend to get back from that "errand." He had been gone for a good two and a half hours, not giving you a text, email or phone call to let you know he was okay. Did the moody bastard go to a party? Maybe he was with another woman. The last one made you shake your head. As physically attractive as he was, his personality left most woman aghast. Sure he could be charming, but when the situation didn't call for it he put no effort into it at all. You loved him anyways. His harsh personality left you with butterflies in your stomach.

You grabbed a piece of candy from your almost empty bowl. You were quite smug with the fact that only a few pieces were left. Ireland and you had had an argument. He said there was too much; you said it was just right. The turnout this year put a smile on your face. You could remember the years you spent going door to door asking for a trick or a treat. Hell, you would have dressed up for Halloween if your boyfriend hadn't informed you that the holiday was strictly for kids not a grown woman.

"Well, I guess that means that he won't be able to see the costume I picked out for him, hm?"

Walking to the kitchen, you decided that you needed a cold glass of water to wash down the sharp sweetness. Without turning the lights on you turned on the tap. You let the water run over your hand before it was the right temperature. The glass was filled but soon emptied.

A bright purple light caught the corner of your eye. Turning, you walked to the laundry room. The light was floating a few feet behind the house. Not one for being superstitious, you opened the back door and stepped onto the wooden landing. The light bobbed away then paused. It was small enough to fit into the palm of your hand. You stepped down the stairs and onto the green grass that came before the patch of trees. The light bobbed some more towards to forest. It continued once more as you walked into the tree line.

You followed the light as it weaved in and out of trees. Stones, branches and leaves lined your path causing you to slow down and get over the obstacles without a wound. The light waited every time. As you ventured farther and farther into the forest it became duller and duller, growing so faint that sometimes you had to squint to make it out. Before it fully disappeared from view red light painted the north face of the trees. The cackle and burning smell of wood hit you. You breathed in deeply, the smell sending you into happy bliss. No thoughts of caution entered your mind as you went closer and closer to the fire.

Leaving the tree line, you entered a small clearing. In the center was a large bonfire. Its light glowed brightly, at its center purple and blue intermingled. At the far left of the fire, Ireland stood staring into the far with a blank look and his face. He raised his eyes as you approached. His light green eyes reflexed the red sending a warm feeling into your stomach.

"Is this," you swept your hand over the blazing scene, "even legal?"

He pouted but let a small smile grace his pale pink lips.

"Candy and costumes weren't always the highlight of this night. Before we used to light bonfires and do different traditions. I felt like I needed that."

His accent comforted you. You sent a small smile his way and took his hand in yours. Plopping down, you tugged the auburn haired man with you to the grass. He sat next to you, wrapping and arm around your shoulders.

"I like this. Let's stay here for the rest of the night."

You leaned into him happy to know that he was in fact okay and not out doing one of your paranoid conclusions. Nuzzling into his naked neck you placed quick kisses over him. Ireland hummed in liking. He cocked his head and let his lips fall on yours. After a kiss filled with enough passion for France to approve you broke away. You, in a false shy manner, played with the cuffs of Ireland's jacket.

"I had planned for us to celebrate Halloween with a new tradition. Do you think we can do it here?"

Ireland smirks, showing one of his canines.

"Of course."

He pushed you onto your back. You felt your body try to find comfort in the cold, solid ground. Ireland trapped your hips between his legs. He bent low and pulled your bottom lip into his mouth. You moaned in your chest. In a fever of hazy thought, Ireland's jacket, shirt and pants were off. You were in no better state of dress. Your clothes lay in piles next to your naked bodies. With a harsh bite to your neck that would surely leave a scar Ireland entered you.

You writhed under him and over him, switching positions periodically. His hands left nothing untouched. His thrusts were deep and mind blowing. Neither of you noticed the twigs, leaves and dirt that clung to you like you clung to each other. Neither of you cared about what was going on in the world around you. All you were worried about was the tightening in your lower abdomen. After consecutive releases no break was taken. The need was too deep. It was after the bonfire had burned to kindle that you both collapsed in exhaustion. You ached between your legs but the pain was nothing but heaven.

Not bothering to dress, Ireland scooped you up into his built arms and carried you through the trees. Your naked bodies were still tingling as you hit the feathery sheets. Without a care that the sheets were stained with dirt and mud, Ireland wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. Thus Hallows Eve passed with your limbs entangled with a founder of the night's celebrations.

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Hope you liked it!


	12. On The Couch

Ugh I'm so behind on my writing! I had this done before I left for vacation but I couldn't put it up while I was away.

Hopefully while I'm in my classes tomorrow I'll be able to come up with something, I usually get my ideas while I'm daydreaming away in my seat.

Hope you like this short but sweet (kinda) update!

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I realized, at that very instant of the sound of the door slamming against the frame, that my boyfriend had never once come back home sober. No, the more I thought about it the more his state of inebriation came to mind. His eyes were always bloodshot with a dilated pupil sometimes thrown in. He would be extremely twitchy after coming home some nights. I always wondered what ran in front of those wheat lashed eyes. They never focused on his surroundings. He acted like he wasn't even seeing what I was seeing. Sometimes I asked him what he did while he was out with his buddies but after being met with so much silent every time, I gave up. It wasn't really worth the stress of worrying about what illegal substances he had consumed that day.

We had it down to a routine.

Wake up

Breakfast

Work

Dinner

Me – Chores, reading, writing, out with friends, etc

Him – Out with friends (most likely at a club or bar)

He would come home

I would wait half an hour until the drugs wore off a little

We would engage in small talk

He would start to feel frisky

Sex

Shower

Bed

That was my day. Of course there were some variations from day to day but that was basically what my life had become. Soon, though (if my plan succeeded), everything would change. I had come to grow bored with how my life was playing out. After hearing all my friends boast about how great their life was with their significant others I had come to learn that my boyfriend and I were not taking advantage of the potential we have.

I have to admit, this was never my idea. One of my good friends suggested to me that I should go about what I wanted to do this way. I never would have thought to do this. I knew that my tall lover had a wee fetish for young girls, so when I told my friend this she suggested that I break out my old high school uniform and put it to good use (with a few dirty grins and suggestive winks thrown in). She told me to mix in some sexy panties and bra and add that pair off old Mary-Janes I still had lying around and everything would work out. The idea at first made me nervous but as the days wore on it grew on me. I had pulled out my uniform a few times and had tried it on then rushed to take it off and put it away, as if I was about to be caught doing something really naughty. It finally came to the point where change had to happen and what can I say?

My old uniform lay in shreds on the floor. One Mary-Jane was on and the other was who-knows-where. My blouse was half open and my skirt was bunched at my waist. I was moaning like I was a virgin and he was thrusting like he was some hyped up teenage boy. Here I am having the best sex of my life with my sober boyfriend (I know, it's a miracle) on our black leather couch and I don't have a care in the world... Hopefully nothing stains.

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Thank you for reading!


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